


talk some sense to me

by saphinias



Series: you can get lost [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: 5 Times, Cheating, Emotional Infidelity, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, M/M, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-11-11 12:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11148291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saphinias/pseuds/saphinias
Summary: Five times that Jon and Lin almost kiss, and the one time they do.





	1. starry eyes

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from I Found by Amber Run.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to reality is coincidental.

It was late, it was the night of the opening night party, and he and Lin were perched across from one another on stools.  They were both bafflingly drunk and not a little bit sleepy.  Vanessa had headed home earlier, had kissed Lin on the cheek, smiled and told him to have fun.  

A few of the company had left, but most were still dancing and chatting and laughing.  Chris had just made his rounds and hugged them both before he’d left.  Jon was fairly content to just witness the pure joy that was emanating from Lin, how he buried his face in the shoulder of whoever it was that he was hugging, the twinkling in his eyes that seemed to have a direct line to his overfull heart, his huge and unrelenting grin, and the way he could not laugh without throwing his head back and knocking more strands of hair out of place.

Lin had both of his feet resting on Jon’s stool, and he was poking at Jon’s knee when suddenly he stopped and straightened up, “I want wine.  Do you want wine?”  Lin looks up and doesn’t give him any time to respond before he stands up, “I’ll get some wine, stay right here.”  Lin squeezes his shoulder as he goes, and Jon watches him make his way toward the bar.  He’d bought the suit he was wearing tonight specifically for this event, and Jon had to admit that it was well worth it.  As his gaze wandered he smiled at the green Nikes that he was sporting.  Those, too, were brand new, as evidenced from the story Lin had excitedly told him about getting his dress pants altered.  (A story that had started with crinkly eyes and a, “ _ Groffsauce, guess what I did today! _ )

Jon imagines his face is fairly accurately portraying how gooey his insides feel as Lin walks back to him with their glasses of wine, because as Renee is passing by she takes one look at him, laughs, and pats him on the back before she leaves him to it.

Lin offers him his drink, “For my Groffsauce.”  Jon’s heart feels like the incessant twinkling of Lin’s eyes is testing its limits to expand any further without bursting.

Daveed and Pippa come by and join their conversation for a while, until Pippa decides she needs another drink and Daveed is distracted by Anthony’s antics a few feet away.  Jon and Lin finish their wine and set their glasses down on the nearby table, and suddenly the conversation dries up.  

Lin is pulling at his own fingers, his eyes cast down to watch his hands fiddling.  Jon’s drunken train of thought is caught on a loop of  _ long, sweeping eyelashes _ , so he isn’t anticipating the abrupt eye contact that he’s caught in when Lin looks up at him.  He’s so caught off guard, and so incredibly inebriated, that he doesn’t quite clock it when Lin’s face starts moving closer to his.  He just kind of goes back to admiring this face that he thinks he’ll maybe never get tired of, almost doesn’t notice what Lin is trying to do until it’s nearly too late.

Jon grabs the back of Lin’s head and guides his face to rest smushed on his shoulder instead.

“Please don’t do that,” is what comes out of Jon’s mouth.  Lin leans back and Jon can’t help but meet his eyes again.  He knows it’s a mistake as soon as he does it.

“You were  _ looking _ at me, I’m sorry,” is what comes out of Lin’s mouth.  Jon runs a hand through his hair, his heart beating as fast as if he  _ had _ been kissed by his happily married best friend in the middle of a goddamn party full of all of their closest friends.

“I can  _ look _ at you, okay?  Fuck.  You can’t do that,” Jon snaps.  “This isn’t my fault.”

The eyes that have been twinkling all night turn glassy and Jon has never felt worse about making the right choice in his life.

“I’m sorry,” Lin insists.  Jon can’t stand it, pulls him into a hug and tucks Lin’s face back against his shoulder.

“It’s okay.  You just can’t do that,” Jon repeated, slipping a hand underneath his jacket to pull him closer.  “We can’t do that.”

They stood there like that for a long time.  Lin was the one who finally stepped back.  He looked considerably sobered.

“I think I’m gonna get a cab.  I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Jon sways and smiles, “Yeah.  Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”


	2. domestic promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon wakes Lin up. Also gyros.

Jon sometimes thought that what he was addicted to wasn’t the man, but the way the man embodied his myth.  How he lived up to it in every single way.  How those who knew him personally could say nothing but good things because he was the type of person who surpassed all expectations so matter how wild they were.

Jon admired so many things about him.  But maybe he loved him most when he saw the really human moments.

Lin was always tired.  He never complained about the circles under his eyes, but Jon saw him poking at them more than once in the mirror.  He wasn’t sure if Lin had the inherent ability to sleep anywhere at any time, or if that was just a side effect of his constant state of exhaustion.  Any kind of lazy affection would make his eyelids droop - a lingering hug, playing with his hair, or even just leaning against him on a couch.  

In general, Lin was fairly open with his emotions, but when he was just waking up from dozing off unexpectedly?  That took the cake.  His face would be entirely unguarded, and he would always wake up with a frown and furrowed eyebrows.  

There was one day in particular that Jon recalled.  It was a two-show day, and he had left to grab them both lunch.  He’d offered, insisted that it wasn’t a problem, that Lin should feel free to stay at the Richard Rogers.  It was a ploy to get him to maybe sleep a little before the second show.  

That morning he had come in with a wide, tired smile and a story of his son waking him up at five in the morning and some kind of train track shenanigans.  He was wearing his gray sweater and his hair was pulled out of his face in the messiest bun Jon had ever seen him wear.  When Lin caught him staring his smile softened and he tucked a loose piece behind his ear.

“Hi,” he’d said, after finishing his story.

Jon’s chest felt tight.  With all the breath he had left he replied, “Hi.”

When Jon returned from procuring their lunches, he found Lin curled up on the couch, softly snoring.  He placed the food on the table and perched on the edge of the seat.  He reached out and grasped Lin’s shoulder, leaned over to where his face was pressed into the back cushions.

“Hey, food’s here,” Jon murmured.  Lin’s eyes slid open underneath that furrowed brow.  He shifted to lie on his back and suddenly their faces were just inches apart.

Jon didn’t know who looked first, but his eyes couldn’t help but stray to Lin’s lips.  As soon as he realized he looked to his eyes, but they were set on Jon’s lips.  He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest, dropping into his stomach when those eyes met his.  Jon brought his hand to rest high on Lin’s chest and he could  _ feel _ the other man’s breath stutter.

“Jon,” he whispered, like for once he was speechless.  Like an affirmation.  He twisted his fingers in the soft, gray sweater.  He thought of wine and green Nikes and starlit eyes.  There was a hand twisting into his hair, and leaning in felt like falling.

Lin turned away at the last second, and Jon’s lips landed on the place where his jaw met his neck instead.  He stayed there for a few minutes while Lin’s fingers combed through his hair.  It felt like an aftermath, like they should be somewhere private and not in the middle of a workday.

Eventually, Jon extricated himself.  There was nowhere to go this time.  They had another show soon.  Jon dropped to the floor and leaned back against the sofa.

“What did you get us for lunch?” Lin asked, still lying where Jon had left him.

Jon was struggling with the intimate space he had just created.  This shouldn't feel like a morning after.  Grabbing lunch shouldn't feel like some kind of domestic promise.  Jon cradled his face in his hands.

“Gyros,” he replied, his answer muffled through his hands.  Lin still didn’t move from his spot, if the sound of silence was anything to go by.

“I was looking at you.  This time,” Lin offered.  Jon heard him shuffling around.  Waited.  “I’m looking at you a lot.”

“I’m sorry,” was all that Jon could manage.  He wondered if he’d ever be able to remove his hands from his face, he was so mortified.  It was quiet for a long time.  There was more shuffling from Lin’s place on the couch.  If Jon moved he might do something he couldn't take back.  

Jon laughed, then, for reasons he couldn't begin to fathom.  It wasn't funny, except he’d been sitting on the floor covering his eyes like a child for the past few minutes.  “Yeah, I look at you.  Maybe I’ll look at you again one day when I move my hands.  I think they’re stuck.”

Then Lin laughed and it felt like their pieces slot back into place suddenly.

“I think your hands will find Greek food a great motivator,” he announced.

Jon grinned, “You may be right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback via kudos and comments mean the world.


	3. starstruck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Lin meet for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my dudes, thanks for all the comments on the last chapter! They seriously make my day.
> 
> Here, have some beginning of time Grofflin.

They’d known each other before Hamilton rehearsals for Broadway, but they’d never spent an extended amount of time together.  Jon remembered when they’d first met, years ago.  Remembered how cute and soft Lin had been back then, even five years older than him.  Starring in a Broadway show of his own had done nothing to prepare him for meeting Lin.  He remembered feeling wholly inadequate just speaking to Lin in casual conversation.

He remembered how starstruck he’d been.  Back then he hadn’t known anyone who knew Lin, so he was entirely unprepared for the ball of energy and passion that was Lin.

Lin had greeted him with a, “Hi!  I’m so glad you made it!  Thanks for doing this,” and a handshake that was perhaps the most enthusiastic he’d ever received - it was exuberant, and he’d grasped Jon’s hand with both of his after a moment of shaking.

For Jon, that was all it had taken.  He’d grinned and replied that it was no problem, and when Lin let go of his hand he found he couldn’t move for a second afterward.

Jon was honestly shocked that he managed a smirk for the video - when on the inside all he was feeling was one enormous jaw-drop.

They went out for dinner that night, the two of them.  Lin insisted on buying him a meal.  They ended up in a hole-in-the-wall Mexican place that was dripping with fairy lights.  When they left they were both tipsy from a margarita each and laughing about something inconsequential.  Lin invited him over to his place.  Jon forgot the excuse that Lin used now, but it really didn’t matter what it was that he said.  Jon had needed very little incentive to continue the evening of chatting and laughing.

They ended up on Lin’s living room floor, sitting in front of the couch.  They sat cross-legged, facing each other, swapping terrible jokes.  Jon ran out of them far before Lin had, who had a knack for making them up on the spot.  It devolved into a game: Jon would name increasingly ridiculous things and Lin would incorporate them into really bad jokes.  Jon had never laughed so hard in his life.

The conversation eventually petered out, and they wore matching lingering grins when their eyes met and the world felt exceptionally still for the very first time.  Lin’s hand inched toward his until Jon was thinking about how that morning’s handshake had not at all prepared him for actual handholding.

“Hi,” Lin said.  He gave Jon a smile that was all dimples and eyelashes.  Jon sat there, dumbfounded.

“Hi.”  Jon’s brain misfired and then he found himself saying, “I’m really glad I met you.”  Lin’s eyebrows pulled together and he looked like he might start  _ cooing _ and Jon had never met someone whose emotions bled through their facial expressions so completely.  They simultaneously shuffled into an awkward embrace.  The hand that wasn’t holding Jon’s rested on his waist.  After, they didn’t lean back as far as they should have.

Lin licked his lips and Jon watched words burst into the stillness out of nowhere: “I have a girlfriend.”  It was spoken softly, like he’d been waiting for the right time to speak it.  Jon wished it was the wrong time.  Even as Jon wished, Lin’s hand held tight to his.

“I, oh, I’m not -” Jon started, but he couldn’t finish, didn’t want to tell lies there on the floor with this man.  Lin was still holding his hand, and they were still too close.  Jon blinked three times before Lin spoke again.

“I’m really glad I met you, too,” is what came out of his mouth, and it felt a little like whiplash.  Jon was the one who let go.

“Thanks for dinner, it was really good.  We should hang out again!”  Jon stood, tried to get some distance from whatever it was that just happened.  Lin followed.

“Soon!” Lin exclaimed, and pulled Jon into another hug before he could make a break for the door.  As soon as it was over he bolted, scrambled to unlock the door, and left behind a hasty,  _ okay, bye _ .

On his way home he wondered what that had been.  His brain supplied him with stupid words like  _ starstruck _ and  _ whiplash _ and  _ fate _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are very much appreciated!


	4. singularity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> singularity (noun):
> 
> 1\. the state, fact, quality, or condition of being singular.  
> 2\. a point at which a function takes an infinite value, especially in space-time when matter is infinitely dense, as at the center of a black hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the sixth and final chapter of this series is already written. Has been for weeks. You know what that means? Only one more chapter to be written, and then everybody gets to receive the chapter where they actually kiss!
> 
> Thanks for all the comments, they really kick my ass into gear and make me write some more.

It was January, and the cast had all gone out to an arcade before moving the festivities to a bar.  Lin wasn’t drinking - he was on the verge of needing vocal rest and he didn’t want to push it with his voice.  Jon had had one beer and was now working on his second, but he needed to ride his bike home so this would be it for him.  

They had pretty much taken over the entire bar between the cast and crew, and Jon and Lin were sitting smushed together on one side of the booth while Jasmine and Anthony were seated on the other.  Pippa was standing at the end, leaning on the table and chatting with Jas.  She had been floating from table to table all night, bright and bubbly and pink-cheeked with a vodka sour clutched in her hand.

So, neither of them were drinking.  But it was late, they’d just finished a show earlier that night, and they were surrounded by some of their closest friends.  Jon was definitely feeling giggly and light hearted just because of the company and the atmosphere.  Lin was full of grins and the joy that was playing out on his face - directed almost exclusively at him - filled Jon up like helium until he felt like he was bouncing along the ceiling.

“You’re never gonna get me, Groff.  I am a _rock_.  I do not laugh on stage, I am _professional_ ,” Lin was saying.  He was looking at him with a serious expression on his face, eyebrows pulled together and repeatedly poking the table with his pointer finger to try and get his point across.  Jon laughed as he went on.  “Why are you laughing?  I am the epitome of professional!”

Jon just kept laughing and shoved at his shoulder.  Lin took the opportunity to burrow into his side.  He’d been especially tactile tonight – which was a thing when he was actually drunk, but apparently also a thing when the drunkenness was just rubbing off on him.  Jon lifted his arm around his shoulder because that was clearly what he had been gunning for.  He happily curled around Jon’s torso, contented to be weighted down by Jon’s arm.  He squeezed his knee in thanks.

Pippa’s laugh rang out, “I feel like I’m fifth-wheeling at this table!”

Lin pointedly considered Anthony and Jasmine sitting close on the other side of the booth and then pretended to think.  “Well, we’ve gotta do _something_ to keep the balance!”  Everybody laughed, and Pippa took that as her cue to roll her eyes and bop over to another table.

 

-

 

Later, the two of them were walking back to where Jon had left his bike.  They both had their hands shoved in their pockets away from the cold, and Lin was wearing a beanie.  His long hair curled out from underneath it like ribbons.  They were walking close, ostensibly because of the cold.  Their elbows brushed at every step.

“I like winter,” Lin sighed dreamily.  Jon huffed.

“You like every season.  You like the falling leaves in autumn, you like the flowers in spring, you literally find pleasure in _sweating_ in the summer, and you like crisp cold winter nights.”  Lin stopped in his tracks and gaped at him for a moment.

“I don’t like _sweating_ ,” he protested.  Jon rolled his eyes.

“You do!  As soon as it gets warm enough you go outside and stay outside until you’re all slick with sweat and _then_ you come inside and grin about it.”  Jon would know.  Hell, _anybody_ would know as long as they interacted with him regularly during the summer months.

Lin considered it for a moment, then made a face and stuck his tongue out at him.  They kept walking.

“Okay, so maybe you’re right.  But I do really like winter.  Like you said, crisp winter nights.  The world feels so empty that if you make the right move, you’ll fall through time.”

Jon was silent while Lin’s words sank between them.  Then, as if disgusted, “Fucking writers.”

“Hey!” Lin screeched indignantly.  He reached around Jon to poke at his sides and pulled his hood down over his eyes.  Jon made poor attempts to swat him away, and they ended up with their arms wrapped around one another, stumbling down the street laughing.

It started snowing.

Jon instinctively looked over for Lin’s reaction, and he wasn’t disappointed.  Even as his arms held him tighter, those brown eyes lit up looking at the cloudy night sky.  He stuck his tongue out as far is it could go, tucked it back in when he’d collected enough snowflakes to satisfy him.  He turned to Jon with a grin and happy, crinkly eyes.

They’re standing still, and all at once Jon knows exactly what Lin means when he talks about the possibilities of cold, crisp winter nights.  How if you move just the right way, everything will be different.  How one right step could change it all.  He feels like all roads lead to this moment.  All roads lead to this moment, and he can take any one of those roads out of it.

They live in that singularity for a while.  They blink more than once.  Lin reaches up to wrap his arms around Jon’s neck, and Jon ducks his head closer to Lin’s.  Lin hasn’t looked at his lips yet, but his eyes have never been so infinite.  When Lin leans in, Jon doesn’t move.  There are endless roads and he isn’t the right one to choose which they take.

Lin kisses his cheek, barely missing his mouth.  He kisses his chin, the tip of his nose, his other cheek.  He leans back and grins some more.

Jon can’t help but laugh, “I can’t believe neither of us is drunk right now.”

Lin responds by sticking his tongue out at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments are super appreciated.


	5. mouthful of stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, but it is 100% mushy, fluffy goodness.

There is a day that Jon and Lin are both in the city, at a time in both of their lives when they don’t call New York home for a few months.  Because of this disconnect, they are drawn to Central Park, clutching bagels and coffee.  They meander through the park and eventually find the perfect tree to sit under.  Lin tore into his bagel - he was travel tired, and he was always ravenous the day after a long flight.  Jon sipped at his coffee and picked apart his bagel slowly.

Lin was slumped against the tree they’d picked out.  His hair was soft and messy, and his mouth was stuffed full with a huge bite of blueberry bagel.  It was quiet for a few minutes while they ate, and then Lin gestured next to him.

“Come sit with me, Groffsauce,” he smiled.

Jon rolled his eyes and complied, sitting back against the tree and allowing Lin to press up against his side.

“I miss living in the same city as you.  FaceTime just isn’t the same,” Lin said.

It was Jon’s turn to smile, “I think that’s because you’re a very tactile person.  Can’t talk to any of your friends without touching them, too.”

Jon felt Lin shrug as much as he saw it.  “You’re right.”

They chatted about their respective jobs and lives that were keeping them away from the city.  Jon was surprised to hear that Lin genuinely enjoyed living in London, considering how much of his identity seemed to be tied to his various ideas of home.  Though, it wasn’t quite as surprising considering he tried to enjoy pretty much everything he could as well as he was able.

“I love your outlook on life.  Sometimes I try and tell people about this effect you have on anyone that’s close enough, but they just don’t get it if they haven’t met you.  I try to tell them that you’re inspiring -” Jon cuts himself off when he feels Lin’s fingers tangling with his between them.

“I tell people about you, too.  But I feel like I have to simplify what’s in my head because if I didn’t I would feel like I’m giving something away, you know?  I feel like I getting to know you is a privilege and sometimes I don’t want to give that away.  Other times the words that would come out would just be too...poetic.”  Jon doesn’t miss the way Lin lays his head down on his shoulder so he doesn’t have to look him in the eye after that confession.

“What would you say?  Give me a poem, nobody else has to hear.”

Lin hums and doesn’t move from his place on Jon’s shoulder.  “You first, what about me inspires you?  Poem not required.”

Jon takes a second to form his sentences but a moment is all he needs, his brain has been compiling this list for a long time.  “You inspire me because you are hopeful, you are always willing to change, and you believe in people more than you believe in anything else.  Change seems less scary when you’re around.”

Lin is quiet for a few minutes, and Jon can’t see his face but he imagines that he’s silently mouthing words, trying to get them in the right order.  The fact that this man who can freestyle about anything at any time is carefully constructing the sentences he’s about to speak warms him, fills up his heart a little.  Lin leans back to look him in the eye before he starts speaking.

“You’re a mouthful of stars that always hangs on my periphery.  Being with you is that feeling you get when you’re sitting on a beach alone in the middle of the night watching the waves crash and you feel vulnerable and endless.  Thinking about you is like thinking about autumn - I feel excited to come home and constantly nostalgic about every other space you take up in time.”  Lin runs his hand through his hair.  “Freeverse, I guess.”

Jon would laugh except he’s too busy wishing that he could replay those words over and over again and live in this moment forever.

“ _Lin_ ,” is what Jon says.

Lin flushes a little, scratches at his neck.  “Yeah.  I don’t tell people stuff like that.”

Jon can’t gather any more words to reply, so he untangles his hand from his and leans toward Lin instead.  He doesn’t expect to get anywhere, but leaning in closer to where those words sprang from feels like a thank you.  Lin gathers his arms around him and squeezes him tight, and Jon knows that he got the message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep leaving comments! 
> 
> See you next time for the big finale.


	6. curtains close on a kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it, the final chapter. The chapter title is taken from _Where Do We Go From Here_ from the Buffy episode _Once More, With Feeling_.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has stuck with this story since the beginning, and for leaving such encouraging comments. 
> 
> You may have noticed that this fic is now part of a series. I plan to add to this universe at some point, probably in the form of oneshots, so you can subscribe to the series if you're interested in that.
> 
> Also: shout out to my roommate for listening to me talk about writing this all summer and for helping me overcome writer's block when it struck. You're the best, Amy.

_This isn’t my fault._ It’s a phrase that played over and over in Jon’s head.  He kept it with him as a refrain through each of the near misses with Lin over the years.  It was not his fault.

He knew it was nobody’s fault, though.  It wasn’t Lin’s fault.  It wasn’t his fault.  They just met at the wrong time - at least, that’s what he told himself.  He repeated his refrain and convinced himself that he was content to walk the line between _enough_ and _too much_.

Jon thought he had gotten over useless crushes on straight men years ago.  And yet, here he was.  Carrying a torch for a married man, a father.  It was certainly not what he thought he’d be doing in his thirties.  Still, he fell deeper into it even knowing that it was a bad idea, but - _it wasn’t his fault_.

Even as he lived by this refrain, he invited Lin over to stay at his place instead of a hotel while he was in the city.  They ended up sitting in the living room with two boxes of pizza and, notably, no alcohol in their glasses.  In some ways, it felt like an echo of their first night together.  But this time, it was pizza.  This time, they were sober.  This time, Lin had a wife and a son.

This time, neither of them stopped at the line they had drawn that first night, years ago.

Lin was running his fingers through his hair, and Jon didn’t know what it was about it that got to him, but it did.  He only picked up that habit after growing his hair out for the show.  Jon missed it.  It reminded him of all the time they had spent attached at the hip, all the time Lin had spent running around in just a pressed white blouse and white stockings.  All the smiles and all of the constant chatter and humming of a busy mind.  How focus had looked different on him then, chewing on a pen and soft hair falling loose from a haphazard bun.

“I miss your long hair, it was hot.”  It tumbled out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop it.  Even as he was immediately regretting his words, he didn’t think that anything would come of it.  Just the other day Lin had waxed poetic about him to his face and nothing happened, just like nothing ever happened - so Jon didn’t quite clock the shift in mood when it occurred.  His brain didn’t quite register the way Lin went from licking crumbs off his fingers to shuffling to his knees and leaning toward him.

“Yeah?” Lin urged.  Jon thought he must be dreaming because he was certain that Lin didn’t sound _husky_. 

“ _What?_ ” he couldn’t help but splutter.  Lin shifted closer and Jon waited for him to repeat himself or crack a joke until he didn’t and _fuck_ , his brain should really get with the program, maybe invest a little focus into this conversation because it was clearly shaping up to be everything he’d never thought he’d get.

“You think I was hot?”  Fuck, Jon’s brain was right, that _was_ a husky voice.  Jon gave him a once-over then.  Lin was wearing an old, soft t-shirt and a pair of jeans that Jon had never seen before.  He could see his bare toes sticking out from the too-long pant legs.  When he met his eyes the sheer frankness of Lin’s gaze overwhelmed him.

“You are hot, yeah,” Jon managed.  His heart was racing.  When did that start happening?  Lin shifted closer and Jon mirrored him, as utterly drawn to him as ever.

Leaning in felt familiar.  They’d done it dozens of times before.  That magnetic pull between them that had never been answered.  Jon’s heart felt like it might burst out of his chest because he didn’t think they were going to stop this time.  

They were so close that when Jon breathed out a last minute, “Yeah?” the word washed over Lin’s lips.  Lin’s hand cupped the back of his neck and Jon grabbed his t-shirt and neither of them closed their eyes even as they closed the distance finally, _finally_.

Nothing about the kiss was tentative, after that.  Lin’s lips were plush and warm and Jon felt like he could lose himself like this forever - like he should’ve been losing himself like this already.  He tugged Lin in closer with the hold he had on his shirt and Lin took that as a cue to climb onto him, to fit his legs around his hips and push him back onto the couch.  Jon whimpered and clutched his shirt harder, threaded his other hand through his hair, earning an encouraging sound.

Lin broke away breathlessly and buried his face in Jon’s neck while his chest heaved.

“Oh my god,” Jon gasped.

“You’re really fucking hot,” Lin said, as if in reply.

“Kiss me.”

Lin was softer this time, steadied his hand on Jon’s jaw.  The thing was, Lin kissed just like Jon expected him to.  He kissed with his whole body, threw everything he had into it.  His thumb stroked back and forth on Jon’s jaw while he pressed into his mouth, and his toes were curled under his legs - as if he felt the need to be grounded when he made out with someone.  The moan that he gave when Jon tugged at his hair shot straight down his spine and made Jon tremble.  Lin slid his hand down to Jon’s chest and pulled away again.  When he made eye contact Jon could see that his pupils were blown.

“Your heart is beating really fast.”

Jon grinned and a breath shuddered out of him, “This is somewhat of a shocking experience.”  His hands fell to Lin’s hips.

Lin ran his hand through his hair and grinned back, “Somewhat?”

Jon rolled his eyes.  Whatever this was, he wasn’t exactly prepared to talk about the years of avoiding this exact situation.  Lin kissed him again but didn’t really settle into it, and he straightened back up.  “You don’t wanna talk about it, do you?”

He felt exposed, for some reason.  It’s not like they’d never skirted around this topic before.  But now he was lying underneath Lin and his tongue had just been in his mouth and it was all just a little overwhelming if he was perfectly honest.  He didn’t have to be, though, because instead he got choked up and whatever he was going to say was replaced by a thick, “Um.”

Lin’s eyebrows screwed together and he immediately dipped down and wrapped himself around him.  “Groff, I’m sorry.  I’m sorry, please don’t cry.”  He chanted the apology against his skin.  All Jon could do was lie there and try to stop shaking.  If he had felt exposed before, he felt naked now.  Lin didn’t say anything else, just kept his face buried against Jon’s chest and took slow, even breaths.  Eventually, Jon’s body caught on and he calmed down.

“I’m sorry,” Jon finally whispered.  

“It’s not your fault.”

“Not yours, either.”

“Seems like it pretty much is.”

“I’m sorry.”  Neither of them moved.  Without the pressure of meeting Lin’s eyes, Jon worked up the courage to bring some finality, to slice himself open.  He took a last shuddering breath and then breathed out, “I’m in love with you.”  It sounded like an explanation.  

“Okay,” he answered.  Lin tried to burrow further into where they were pressed together.  He fidgeted and fidgeted and confessed, “I’m in love with you, too.”

“I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Me neither.”


End file.
